


Origins

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Eleven Little Roosters (Web Series), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Eleven Little Roosters - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:53:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9641522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: Ryan sweeps into Gavin the Third’s life, turns his world upside down, and then has to pick up the pieces.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Silly thing I wrote to practice their characterisations, but I'll post it as my gift to all of you freewood people waiting for them to interact in the show LOL
> 
> c/w: brief mentions of suicide, nothing actually happens

Ryan met with Gavin the Third in a small but painfully expensive restaurant overlooking the Thames. The agent was already there when he arrived, sitting by the window with a glass of red wine in hand and three plates of tiny appetisers in front of him that Ryan was quite sure had already amounted to several hundred pounds despite seeming to barely contain more than a mouthful of actual food.

“Gavin,” he said as he approached, and the other man’s eyes flicked up to him.

It still gave Ryan a jolt, how fucking _identical_ he looked to Ryan’s old coworker. But not just to the two Gavins who he’d met back at Rooster Teeth. To the student he’d met while investigating the wormhole that’d opened in some university science lab. To the Golden Boy who worked with gangs over in Los Santos. To that idiot running around with a Union Jack on his chest claiming to be a superhero who’d been in all the papers lately. 

They were all over the fucking place, and maybe Ryan should’ve been used to that same giant nose popping up everywhere, but somehow - every time - it still made him feel an odd guilt. A flash back to his life _before_ all this. 

He shook it off, and sat opposite the man.

“Haywood!” Gavin replied, and grinned up at him. “Oh - aren’t you a handsome thing.”

Ryan fought not to roll his eyes. Gavin the Third looked like a shitty knockoff of James Bond with his pristine white suit and neatly slicked back hair surrounding that familiar pointy face, big nose and crooked smile. But there was a weird, vacant sort of look in his eyes. Like he was off in his own little world.

_Just another dumb blonde,_ Ryan thought. He’d read the files - he knew all about the agent’s track record of failures and apparent complete lack of sense. This shouldn’t take long. He doubted he’d get anything useful out of Gavin either way.

But they had to chase down every possible lead, just to be thorough, and Agent Moose had refused to handle this one.

“I didn’t think we’d be meeting so soon,” Gavin continued. “I heard you’re investigating the mole.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you think it was me?” 

Another vacant blink, like if Ryan replied in the affirmative he’d have no idea what to even say in his defence. 

“No,” he replied, “But I need to ask you some questions anyway. After all, you and Hadam were playing a game to the death, and you were the one to walk away.”

“And I got damned lucky doing so!” Gavin cried, and puffed up his chest like an indignant penguin. “He organised the bloody thing! _He_ tried to kill _me!_ ”

He punctuated this last statement with another bite of his food. Ryan glanced down and raised his eyebrows. The dish looked like someone had taken the tiniest slice possible from several different bits of meat and arranged them in some sort of abstract configuration on the plate. Apparently this food was all about the negative space.

Gavin followed his gaze.

“This is a deconstructed pork pie,” he announced, and waggled his eyebrows. “That’s the in thing right now. _Deconstructing_. Much like sex, it’s all about taking something apart. Just in a much more… literal sense.”

Dear God. The last thing Ryan wanted to deal with this afternoon was Gavin fucking Free - _no, not him, Gavin the Third -_ doing an attempt at a suggestive stare from under his eyebrows. He looked like Flynn doing the _smoulder_ from Tangled, just twenty times more constipated.

“From the stage,” he replied, trying to get them back on track. “Did you see anything? Anyone watching in the crowds who shouldn’t have been there?”

“No,” Gavin replied, leaning back in his seat. “I was a bit busy trying not to be crushed by giant falling tetris blocks!”

“Nothing suspicious at all?”

Gavin shook his head, and Ryan grit his teeth. He was frustrated and jet-lagged - he’d just gotten off a long flight from DC to chase this down. Of course it had come to nothing.

“Not much of a secret agent, are you? Since you apparently have no skills of observation,” he couldn’t help saying, rather snippily.

Gavin looked faintly offended.

“I’ve got plenty of bloody skills of observation,” he announced, and leaned forward conspiratorially, pointing over Ryan’s shoulder.

“See that guy across the room?” he whispered, pointing to a man hovering by the restaurant’s bar. “He totally wants to bang me. Look how he’s staring. He’s even licking his lips, Christ!”

“He’s trying to let you know you’ve got sauce on your chin,” Ryan pointed out.

Gavin reached up and wiped some sauce from under his bottom lip, unaffected.

“This tetris game,” Ryan continued, “Hadam set it up?”

“Yes,” Gavin said. “No bloody idea why. We were getting along so well! He wanted to bang me, too-”

“Okay,” Ryan cut in, frustrated, “Can we leave how much everyone wants to bang you aside for the time being?”

“Why should we?” Gavin replied, matter-of-factly. “It’s highly relevant! We were in bed when he pulled out that freaky gas mask. For a minute I thought he just wanted to, like, roleplay. People are into things like that sometimes, you know?”

“I don’t need the _not safe for work_ details,” Ryan began, but Gavin was leaning in suddenly, so close that Ryan could smell his expensive cologne.

“You want to find your mole?” Gavin whispered. “Just sleep with all the suspects! It’s the best way to see someone at their most vulnerable.”

Ryan scoffed. He reached out and shoved Gavin back into his seat. Unfazed, Gavin sprawled back in the chair, legs spread lazily apart, grinning up at him.

“I’m telling you!” he insisted. “It’s a good idea! Better than going around asking stupid, pointless questions.”

“I don’t need any advice on how to do my job from you,” Ryan snapped. He was annoyed at how useless this whole mission had been, and stood up to leave. Clearly they weren’t getting anywhere here.

“I’m the queen’s top agent!” Gavin squawked.

“No, you’re just a stupid clone.”

He gathered his belongings, and pulled his jacket on, glancing distractedly out the window. If he hurried to catch his plane, he might manage to catch the Sex von Shaukel Boyz before their next concert. 

“By the way,” he added, as he turned to leave. “I’m not paying for your three deconstructed entrees and whatever the hell else you might have ordered-”

He broke off when Gavin caught his sleeve, and turned to look at him. Gavin’s brows were furrowed in confusion, and he was staring at Ryan like a particularly stupid flamingo who’d had its head in the sand so long it forgot where it was standing. 

“What did you say?” Gavin asked.

“I said I’m not paying for-”

“No,” Gavin shook his head. “Before that. Did you just call me a clone?”

“Yes,” Ryan replied. He tried to pull away, but Gavin clung to his arm with surprising strength, and after a moment he reluctantly sat down again.

“What’s that mean?” Gavin asked.

“A clone? Surely you know what a-”

“I’m not a clone,” Gavin snapped, something oddly defensive in his voice.

This was not how Ryan had planned to spend his afternoon.

“Yes,” he replied, with forced patience, “You are. You’re a clone of a man named Gavin Free. There are hundreds of you, all over the place. Like toys all manufactured together, put on the same shelf, then sold off around the world.”

Gavin stared at him with his big, dumb eyes. Then he began to shake his head.

“What are you _on_ about?” he asked, and started laughing, uneasily. His voice was shaking a little. “Stop being _silly_.”

Ryan sighed heavily. He pulled out his phone and leaned across the table to show Gavin a series of pictures.

“Look - that’s the original,” he said. “And there’s number two. From your name I’m guessing you’re number three. In my line of work I just keep coming across you lot. Here’s another - and another. Remember that time aliens attacked last year? One of those idiots in the suits is another one of you.”

Gavin was staring at the phone in disbelief. He was still shaking his head, as though if he did it enough Ryan’s words would somehow bounce right off and be proven false.

“See?” Ryan said, and put his phone back in his pocket. “You’re just a clone.”

He got up to leave again, fairly unconcerned about the agent’s feelings. After all, he’d seen a shit ton of these guys all around the place, and it seemed like they didn’t do much but cause trouble and occasionally get themselves killed in various horrible ways. This was just another in a series of numbers, albeit one who was rather better dressed than the others. He turned to go when Gavin grabbed his wrist again.

“I’m not a clone,” he insisted. His voice was very strained now. “Those… those must be my long lost brothers. Clearly my parents got around as much as I do!”

“No, you’re a fucking clone,” Ryan said, “Trust me, I’ve met enough of you to know. Sorry to break it to you,” he added, and tried to leave again. Gavin clung to his arm like a limpet.

“Why would you say something horrid like that?” he cried.

“Because it’s true!” Ryan shot back. “Come _on_ , use those powers of observation. Do you remember anything about your childhood?”

“Yes,” Gavin said, uncertainly. “I’m an MI6 agent.”

“I said _childhood,_ idiot. You don’t, right? I’m guessing you got sold to MI6 to use as a spy. Maybe they put some sort of backstory into your head. Whatever it was, you probably didn’t think much about it until now.”

Gavin’s lip wobbled.

“The government doesn’t just _buy_ people,” he said softly. “Not… not like that.”

“You’re not a person,” Ryan replied matter of factly. “You’re a clone.”

Gavin’s lips parted, but no words came out. He stared out into space, looking like his whole world had been turned upside down. Finally he looked down at his hands and started fiddling with his watch - a small, suddenly very human gesture that made Ryan feel a little bad for the first time. He hadn’t _meant_ to blow the clone’s simple little mind. He kind of thought the guy would just… absorb the information and then file it away as irrelevant.

“Look,” he said, a bit more gently. “No need to make a big fuss about it. Like I said, there’s heaps of others like you out there. You’re just one of many.”

“No,” Gavin murmured. “I’m me?”

Ryan patted his hand a bit awkwardly, then took the opportunity to pry it from his arm. This must be quite a blow, he thought. A bit like finding out you were adopted, except far more intense.

Gavin looked up at him. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment Ryan actually felt quite unsettled.

“I think you’re lying,” Gavin said quietly.

“I’m not lying,” Ryan replied, and sighed. “I’m sorry. Look, try not to let it get to you. I’m sure you’re a very good agent. And hopefully not the mole. Now I really need to get going.”

This time, he managed to leave the restaurant without Gavin stopping him. He was halfway down the street and trying to hail a taxi when he turned and realised Gavin was trailing after him like a lost puppy. Ryan sighed and raised his eyebrows, waiting for the other man to catch up.

“What?” he demanded, as Gavin approached.

Gavin looked up and blinked at him with his big Barbie doll eyes.

“Do you want to sleep with me?” he asked.

Somehow, despite everything, Ryan still hadn’t expected _that_.

“ _What_?” he asked, taking a step back. “No!”

“Why not?” Gavin asked, tilting his head curiously. Ryan could only stare at him, stunned, mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish. “Most people do.”

“I’m not most people,” Ryan replied, once he managed to get his voice back.

“Is it because I’m a clone?”

Ryan stared at him. Then sighed, and rubbed his hands over his face.

“No, Gavin, it’s not,” he said, and very awkwardly reached out and patted him on the head. “I’m going now. Take care of yourself.”

He turned to cross the road. Gavin didn’t follow him.

“I’m not a clone,” Ryan heard him say behind him. “I’m a real boy.”

Ryan just gave a helpless, awkward shrug. The lights changed, and by the time he was across the road, Gavin had vanished into the crowds of people walking down the street.

_Whoops_ , was all Ryan could think. Well, today hadn’t quite gone as planned. He hadn’t meant to shatter the foundation of the man’s entire existence - but he’d get over it, right? He’d probably go sleep with that guy in the restaurant and forget this ever happened.

 

* * *

 

After following the Sex von Shaukel Boyz on a spree of murder-happy concerts around Europe, Ryan was busy enough that he almost managed to forget about that little incident - at least until he was finally back at the Rooster Corps HQ and went into the break room to get a cup of coffee, only to turn around and find Gavin standing ominously in the corner holding a teapot in one hand and a cup and saucer in the other. Staring at him. Steam rising slowly around his face.

“Gavin,” Ryan said. After, you know, nearly jumping out of his skin and uttering a rather girlish shriek. “You’re not in England?”

“No. I heard you’d be here.”

“Me?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah. I wanted to talk.”

Because that wasn’t totally ominous. Gavin walked towards Ryan, who ended up backed against the counter, the other man standing just a little too close in front of him. To Ryan’s great relief, he set down the teapot, so at least the boiling water was out of the equation. But Gavin was still standing so close that their toes were nearly touching, and Ryan couldn’t really move past him.

Gavin looked up at him, and there was something very uncertain in his face. It was then that Ryan recalled their last interaction.

_Shit,_ he thought. He had opened a can of worms here that he couldn’t close.

“I spoke to Annersby,” Gavin announced.

Ryan had no idea who the fuck Annersby was, but he could only assume it was someone at MI6 - and from the look on Gavin’s face, someone who hadn’t had very good news for him.

“I asked him if I was a clone,” Gavin continued, “And he got all shifty! So it must be true. Annersby wouldn’t lie to me - would he?”

“I mean, I don’t know-”

“He wouldn’t. There’s a bond of trust that forms when you let someone eat you out.”

“Okay,” Ryan said, his face very red. “I did not need to know that.”

“It’s very intimate!” Gavin insisted - then sighed, heavily, and ran his hands over his face. “I thought I could trust him, but he never told me! He must’ve known all along!”

Ryan had no idea what the hell he was meant to do here. He wished he’d never let slip that Gavin was a clone in the first place. He had more than enough on his plate without having to guide him through his newfound existential crisis.

“Do you want to sit down?” he asked finally, awkwardly.

Gavin nodded. He hoisted himself up on the counter next to Ryan, and promptly put one hand on his leg as he leaned against his side. Ryan tensed - Gavin seemed completely unaware that he was nearly touching his crotch, and he felt bad pushing him away since he clearly wanted to be close.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Gavin complained. “I feel very odd. I wish you’d never told me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan replied, voice rather strained.

Gavin peered up at him.

“You didn’t care, last time,” he pointed out. “You were just like, _you’re a bloody clone, deal with it_.”

“I know,” Ryan admitted, and did feel a bit guilty now that he could see it had obviously been eating Gavin up since their last meeting. “I was a bit of an ass. Look, you might be a clone, but you still have feelings.” Wasn’t that something he was only just realising, too. “You’re still _you_.”

“Am I?” Gavin asked, miserably. “I got created in a lab somewhere, probably.”

Ryan sighed. He put an arm around Gavin and managed to shift him away from his crotch a little. Gavin seemed deeply pleased by the contact, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, seeming to think that Ryan had whatever magical answer he wanted to hear. Great, just great - the last thing Ryan had wanted was to become the guy’s fucking therapist.

“Look,” he said, awkwardly, “You’ll figure it out. Surely you have… things you’re interested in, people you’re close to - things that make you _you_.”

Gavin hummed, thoughtfully.

“I’m interested in sex,” he declared finally. “I’ve fucked half of Rooster Corps.” 

“No, but like, other things,” Ryan replied. “What do you enjoy?” 

“Blowjobs?”

“Something _not_ related to sex,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes.

Gavin thought in silence for such a long time that Ryan began to grow rather concerned. Finally, his face lit up.

“I like gadgets!” he declared.

“There! That’s something.”

“And drinking,” Gavin said, apparently on a roll now. “And I’m friends with Mikey - my operator - I haven’t banged him yet. Not for lack of trying. He doesn’t mix sex with business-”

“Can you not drag me into this?” a voice shrieked from Gavin’s earpiece. Ryan jumped a mile - he hadn’t expected anyone else to be listening in. “Also, I don’t fucking sleep with you because I can hear everything that goes on when you bang someone and you’re _rubbish at it!_ Did you get that? _Gavin the Third_ is _bad in bed!_ ”

“Does he listen to everything you do?” Ryan demanded - his heart was pounding; the voice had come out of nowhere.

“Pretty much,” Gavin replied, and shrugged, apparently totally unconcerned. Okay. That was… weirdly violating. He’d had no idea someone was listening in - probably had been last time, too.

“He fucking starfishes,” Mikey informed Ryan, who could only stare at Gavin’s ear, bemused.

“I like cats,” Gavin continued, happily.

“There!” Ryan declared, pleased this was over and done with. “You see?”

Gavin’s smile faded as suddenly as it had arrived, a dark cloud passing over his face again.

“But what if all of that isn’t real?” he whispered, sounding quite frightened. “What if they just… just put it into my head so I’d _think_ I’m real? Also, what about all the other Gavins out there? They all think they’re real as well! What if everything I am is just… just programmed?”

Ryan had no idea what to say. He really had bitten off more than he could chew, here.

Gavin stared down at his hands. He was looking steadily more horrified.

“What if I’m not even the _real_ Gavin the Third?” he asked, suddenly. “What if I… I keep dying on missions, and every time I do they just put a new clone in with the others’ memories uploaded? Oh my God! What if I’m not real?!”

“Calm down, okay,” Ryan began, trying to hold him steady as his shoulders heaved.

“ _Mikey!”_ Gavin shrieked. “ _Am I real?”_

“I don’t fucking know,” Mikey replied, so very helpfully. “I just show up and put on the headset, man. Also, it’s nearly my lunch break - can I go get a sandwich or will you get yourself killed the second I’m away?”

“It doesn’t matter if I do,” Gavin replied, mournfully. “They’d just replace me right away!”

He was rather hysterical by this point, and Ryan took the teacup from his limp hand, poured him a cuppa, and handed it back to him. Gavin took it absently and started to sip. Ryan felt rather sorry for him.

“There, there,” he said, only to be surprised when Gavin promptly leaned into his side. Feeling guilty, Ryan put an arm around him again. They sat for a while as Gavin drank his tea and appeared to slowly calm down, Ryan rubbing his shoulder soothingly. 

It was… actually kind of nice. Ryan could see why people were attracted to him. He was warm, and tactile, and easily affectionate, and that was something Ryan hadn’t had much of in years.

When Ryan’s phone buzzed, they both jumped. He took it out and frowned. It was Agent Moose.

Gavin sat up a bit, glancing over at Ryan’s screen.

“Another clue?” he asked.

Ryan nodded, and Gavin looked away for a moment.

“I’ll be here in America for a bit,” he said, slowly. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep with me?”

Jesus, Ryan really had no idea how to handle this situation.

“Quite sure,” he replied. “Why’d you keep asking?”

Gavin shrugged. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “You’re lovely.”

“I shattered your entire worldview,” Ryan pointed out drily.

“Yeah,” Gavin said, “But you were nice to me after. And you’ve got lovely big biceps.”

Ryan stared at him. Then found himself laughing, at the absurdity of the situation more than anything - after a moment, Gavin laughed too, a series of squeaky little giggles that only made him seem even more human. He reached out and squeezed Ryan’s knee before getting up.

“You gonna be okay?” Ryan asked, rather concerned suddenly.

“Sure I am,” Gavin said, but something about his voice made Ryan suddenly think that maybe he was more crafty than those big blue eyes usually lead people to believe. Made him think that he probably wasn’t quite telling the truth.

 

* * *

 

“I think England’s the mole.”

Ryan frowned as Moose slipped into the booth across from him. Since Hadam’s death she’d taken to her task with even grimmer determination. Despite their tireless investigation, the Sex von Shaukel Boyz had managed to self-destruct due to in-group drama, Agent Gibson had eliminated Christoph for looking at him funny, and Boomerang Geoff and the Griffon had vanished into the Australian bush, leaving it up in the air as to whether they had been eaten by dingos or not.

“What makes you say that?” Ryan asked.

He didn’t like the bad feeling it gave him to think that it might’ve been Gavin all along. The other man had been… sweet, last time they met. Ryan hadn’t gotten the sort of vibe from him that he’d’ve expected from a traitor and liar. 

“He’s gone completely off the rails. Apparently he had a total breakdown on a job in New York last week. Killed three people aside from his intended target and nearly killed Agent Jinx when she was sent in to stop him. When the Big Cock took him aside to reprimand him, he apparently started screaming about how _none of you can control me!_ Sounds pretty suspicious, eh?”

“Oh. Shit.” 

“Should we bring him in?”

“No, I meant - shit, he’s not the mole. No, that was my fault.”

“Your fault?” Moose stared at him in confusion. Then suspicion. Then dawning realisation. “Oh my God - you banged one of our _suspects?”_

“What? No! Nothing like that!” Ryan cried. “Look, I… I told him something that I think made him freak out. I’ll deal with it, don’t worry.”

Moose did not look convinced, but something about the look on Ryan’s face seemed to stop her asking any more questions.

“Just be careful, eh? From the sounds of it, he’s gotten pretty unstable. If he tried to kill Jinx, he might try to kill you, too.” 

“I can handle Gavin,” Ryan muttered grimly, and got up and left the restaurant quickly, already pulling out his phone to track down Gavin.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Ryan to find Gavin. He was up on the roof of the Rooster Corps building after apparently throwing an enormous tantrum - witnessed by most of the building’s staff - and destroying every single bit of crockery in the break room.

It was getting late in the day, and apparently Gavin had a flight home to England later tonight. If he didn’t leave soon, he’d miss it. It seemed strange he was still lurking around here.

Ryan went up to the roof, pausing as he emerged onto the flat surface. The city was spread out in front of them, beautiful in the evening light. Gavin stood some distance away, a white silhouette against the orange evening sky.

Then Ryan saw the gun.

Gavin had it lifted to his temple. His hand was trembling. Ryan froze - a cold horror overtaking him. Everything seemed to go very still and quiet.

_No. God, no-_

He didn’t think, just acted. In an instant he was surging forward and tackling Gavin. They both hit the roof with a _thud_ , the wind knocked out of them, and the gun skittered to the side, fortunately not going off.

“Oof!” Gavin cried, as Ryan landed heavily on top of him. 

Their eyes met, and Ryan saw Gavin’s widen in surprise. The other man was flat on his back, Ryan sprawled atop him, but all he could think of was that if he’d come up here two minutes later-

“Ryan?” The confusion in Gavin’s face cleared a little. He looked wrecked, Ryan noticed. Tired and dishevelled, whiskey on his breath. 

“ _Jesus_ , Gavin,” Ryan managed - he was shaking, and Gavin seemed even more confused.

“What?”

“You were-”

He broke off, glancing at the gun, lying some distance away. His voice choked up, upset, and Gavin followed his gaze. The colour drained from his face.

“Oh. Oh, Ryan, no - no, Ryan, it’s not a _real_ gun! It’s this stupid communicator that MI6 came up with! You know, like bloody Maxwell Smart with his shoe phone, except this one’s a gun. You pull the trigger to get a signal. I was just checking my flight times with the operators back home.”

The relief that washed over Ryan was indescribable. He pressed his face to Gavin’s chest for a moment - glad to feel the rise and fall of his breath, the warmth of his body under his. When he looked up, their faces were very close, and for a moment he was too-aware of Gavin’s soft lips inches from his, his wide startled eyes staring into Ryan’s.

“Fucking hell,” he said, and Gavin gave a little, hysterical laugh.

“I wasn’t gonna… I’m not _that_ upset about this whole clone thing.”

Ryan couldn’t manage to find the words. He’d been watching Rooster Corps agents dropping like flies lately, left and right, and hell - one more shouldn’t make much of a difference. But it had. He hadn’t realised until now how awful he’d feel if Gavin was the next to go - how much he’d _care_.

Gavin shifted under him.

“You’re kinda hurting me,” he said, and Ryan realised his knee was digging into him, all his weight on the other man. He sat back and pulled Gavin upright - only to yank him into a tight hug. Gavin made a surprised noise, but hugged him back.

“I heard you’re not having a great time lately,” he managed, and Gavin made a little affirmative noise. Ryan sat back and checked him over, just in case - his white jacket was dirty from hitting the roof, but he was okay. Even smiling a little, now.

“Didn’t know you cared, Haywood.”

“Yeah, well,” Ryan said, eloquently. “I do.”

Gavin’s smile widened a little.

“That’s nice,” he said, so quietly that Ryan knew he was touched. “No, I… I did have a _bit_ of a meltdown before.”

“That’s why I came to check on you.”

“I’m being sent back to England today. They know that I know about the… the clone thing. Figure I’m about to get a big debriefing. I don’t know what’ll happen. I just got - scared, and stressed, and really pissed off about the whole thing. Guess I started wondering if they even care about the job I do or if I’m just one in a line of, y’know. Expendable sexbots.”

“Fuck, Gavin-”

“I’m just being dramatic. It’s not like that, really. I like my job,” Gavin murmured, looking away, “I like it a lot. I thought I was part of something special. Now I don’t know what’s real or what’s not. Guess I’ll find out once I go home.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say. But a moment later Gavin turned to him, and smiled.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to about it.”

“I’m sorry for telling you about all this like I did. And for saying you weren’t a real person.”

“It’s nice that you care,” Gavin replied. “And I appreciate the whole _tackling me to save my life_ thing, even if it wasn’t necessary. I reckon it’ll all be okay.”

“Even if you came from a lab, it doesn’t matter. What matters is all the shit you do now. The person you became. Who _you_ think you are. Also, I’ve met a few of you, and you’re pretty damn different to the others.”

That seemed to reassure Gavin; his shoulders slumped in relief and he gave a little smile.

“Real people have souls and feelings,” he informed Ryan. “Mikey says I have no heart sometimes, but I think I do. Mind if I check?”

Ryan wasn’t sure what he meant - except a moment later Gavin’s hands were resting lightly on his knees, and he was leaning in. Ryan hesitated - but he already knew what he was going to do, and it was no surprise to either of them when he moved forward to meet Gavin halfway.

Whatever Mikey said about Gavin’s skills in bed, he was a pretty damn good kisser - warm, and pliant, and moving in an easy tandem with Ryan almost immediately. He was breathless by the time they pulled apart. He’d expected Gavin to be calm, almost unaffected, but when he looked at the other man again he found him pleasantly flushed.

“That felt real,” Gavin murmured, and Ryan felt himself smile.

Gavin’s watch buzzed, and he looked down and grimaced.

“I have a plane to catch,” he said, and Ryan got to his feet and offered him a hand up.

“I’ll keep that,” he said, picking up the communicator gun before Gavin could. “I can think of about ten different ways this device might backfire horribly on you. Gotta keep you out of trouble.”

Gavin laughed, but he looked pleased.

“I _like_ you, lovely Ryan,” he declared, and leaned in and kissed Ryan’s cheek again before turning and heading off. Ryan watched him go, feeling his cheeks burn with a blush.

He liked Gavin rather a lot too. He just felt bad about causing him all this trouble in the first place.

 

* * *

 

Ryan had never been in the MI6 headquarters before. After more clues led him back to England, he found himself in the building, following up a case file that he was pretty sure had been tampered with by the mole.

His current confrontation with Annersby, though - that was kinda off the records.

“You really bollocksed things up for us by telling him what he is,” Annersby said. He wasn’t looking at Ryan, fiddling instead with a table full of ominous looking gadgets. Ryan was rather worried that he was about to be shrunk, or disintegrated, or frozen into a block of ice.

“How’s that, then?” he asked, arms folded where he stood in the doorway to Annersby’s lab.

“They always perform better if they think they’re the original.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan muttered, “I can’t believe you people.”

“Hey!” Annersby turned to him now, brows furrowed. “I care about Gavin, and not just because he’s God’s scrumptiously sexy little gift to humankind.”

“Um, okay.”

“After his little bender in New York, he’s on probation again,” Annersby explained. “But he will be reinstated. His confidence has just take a bit of a blow, that’s all. I haven’t seen it this bad since the great condom incident of 2012.”

“I don’t think I want to know what that involved,” Ryan muttered.

Annersby sighed. He wheeled himself over to Ryan and stared up at him for a long moment.

“Thank you for looking out for him,” he said finally, “Even if you caused this trouble in the first place. Gavin’s a simple fellow, with simple needs. Aside from, you know, his freakishly high sex drive - but who’s complaining about that, ho ho! But yes. He’ll be fine in no time.”

Ryan just stared at him.

“The worst thing on his mind right now,” Annersby continued, “Is realising he might not be as special as he thought he was.”

“He’s still special,” Ryan snapped, and Annersby gave him a funnily knowing look.

“Yes,” he said, thoughtfully. “Isn’t he just.”

 

* * *

 

Since apparently all roads led to Gavin’s bedroom, Ryan was unsurprised to find himself standing outside the door to Gavin’s apartment half an hour later. 

Gavin, on the other hand, looked like a stunned mullet when he opened the door to find Ryan standing there.

“Not much of a spy, are you?” Ryan teased, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t even check who’s at your door before letting them in. I might’ve been the mole, come here to kill you.”

Gavin’s eyes had widened. He wasn’t in his usual suit, though he still had a bowtie knotted around his throat, and Ryan couldn’t help thinking it was nice to see him looking a bit more dishevelled than usual. He smiled - and after a moment Gavin smiled back, tentatively.

“Why are you here?” he asked, opening the door wider and ushering Ryan into the room. He glanced over his shoulder at his bed, then back at Ryan, questioningly.

“I’m not here to sleep with Double O Gavin, spy extraordinaire,” Ryan began, and saw Gavin’s face fall a little. He continued, “I’m here to make just-Gavin feel a bit special. If that’s what he wants.”

Gavin’s eyes widened. His usual suaveness seemed to have fled him - there was a first time for everything, apparently - and for a minute he just stared at Ryan, a blush rising high on his cheeks. Ryan grinned at him, leaning against the wall.

“Well?” he asked.

Gavin nodded furiously.

“Yes,” he began, “I…”

Being tongue tied seemed like a new experience for him. He stood there, hopelessly flustered, and Ryan laughed and leaned in, one hand cupping Gavin’s cheek. Gavin moved forward to kiss him, leaning into the touch - but Ryan just slipped the earpiece out of his ear.

“ _Oi!”_ he heard Mikey shriek.

“Sorry, Mikey,” Ryan laughed. “Not this time.”

He switched the device off and set it aside on a nearby table. Gavin looked at it, then at him.

“Just us two,” Ryan said softly. “Like I said. I’m not here for the superspy, for whatever MI6 made you. Just you. Just us.”

Gavin looked down. His lips twitched into a smile, and he shook himself, seeming to fall into more familiar movements as he stepped forward and pressed their lips together. Ryan’s hands moved easily to his waist. He kissed him slowly, thoroughly, turning Gavin to press him against the wall instead, letting himself get lost in the motions. 

 

* * *

 

“Well I definitely feel special,” Gavin announced, afterwards, as they sat side by side in bed together.

Ryan laughed as he stubbed out his post-sex cigarette in the ashtray by the bed. Some cliches were nice, after all. 

Gavin was a bit of a starfish, he had to admit, but it didn’t matter so much when Ryan had wanted to be the one to take control anyway. In any case, he could tell this had been different to the other man’s usual trysts with everyone else. Gavin had been less sure of himself than Ryan had expected. But it had been nice, and Ryan hadn’t thought about the other clones once. He put his arm around Gavin, and Gavin rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder.

“Hey Ryan,” he said, after a bit.  
  
“Yeah?”

“You reckon you could help me track down some of the other Gavins?”

Ryan pulled away a little, staring at Gavin suspiciously.

“...why?” he asked, slowly.

Gavin shrugged, a little too casually. His lips were twitching.

“Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I realise I’ve been given a chance that no one else in the world has, and I must take advantage of it,” he said, solemnly. “I’m going to fuck my clone!”

Ryan stared at him, then let out a great snort.

"You’re terrible,” he said, and lunged at Gavin to pin him down, tickling him furiously. Gavin squealed with laughter, shoving at Ryan indignantly before wrapping his arms around him to hold him still and resting his head on his chest. He was still shaking with laughter, and Ryan could feel it as he tugged him down to lie beside him.

It was nice, both of them smiling, tired but blissful. Maybe Ryan had a past he tried not to think about - maybe Gavin didn’t have one at all. But in moments like this, Ryan thought they’d both be okay.


End file.
